Stereophonic
by Purple-Rosie
Summary: Music is the heartbeat of the world, the pulse of our souls. Music is everything. It can wash over you like a second life and reunite you with an existence you long forgot you knew. Come to the rave, join the music... and live. SisterFic. Oneshot.


Hello Everybody!

So I'm back, it would seem. Guess the plot bunnies just aren't finished with me yet. At any rate, not too terribly much to say here, except that _Brothers in Spirit_ is getting quite the following on DeviantArt and I was shocked like whoa! when someone asked me to write more HiNaBN fics. So…yeah. That's what this is.

I apologize for this one; I really do. ABBA and the ass-crack of dawn should never mix. A quick note before getting started: this is set sometime after the events of _Brothers in Spirit_ but is completely unrelated. Hanna and {…} are now family.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hanna is Not a Boy's Name nor any of the characters/locations therein. Nor do I own ABBA or anything associated with them. I do, however, own the purple rave girl, her friends, and the story.

Kinda {…}'s POV

* * *

Stereophonic

It was just like Toni Ipres to know all of the best places in the underground; clubs, parties, theatres, anything remotely musical or artistic that would be off the radar for most normal, everyday citizens of the city. And of course by knowing of those things, she would logically have connections with those who owned and operated such venues. And being connected meant that she must have, upon occasion, used those contacts, otherwise what would be the point in having accumulated them? So it was really no surprise when the punkish young werewolf showed up one evening at the group's favorite bar with an envelope containing enough tickets for everyone in the booth.

"Man-oh-man-whoa! A rave? I mean, really? A _rave!_ That's so awesome, Toni! You must know the coolest people!"

The dead man looked at the slip of paper in his fingers as he listened to his brother babble excitedly. He wasn't sure just what exactly a rave was – he figured it must be some sort of party, from the sounds of it - but allowed himself to share in Hanna's enthusiasm none-the-less. After all, even if he _had_ ever been to one he most certainly did not remember it now. "So when is this?" he asked quietly, glancing at the redhead next to him with the barest hint of a hidden smile.

Toni turned her dark eyes to him, glad that he was interested. "This next Saturday. A friend of mine got asked to deejay and he wanted me to be there. His first gig and all." She flashed a grin, gaze flicking to the other occupants of the table. "And raves are no fun without your posse, right guys?"

"Hell yeah!" came Veser's reply from somewhere over on the zombie's right. The half-selkie punched Hanna in the arm playfully. "Did ya hear that, man? We're a posse!" And with that, the two of them resumed their conversation on the benefits of raver-girls.

Toni just chuckled.

Galahad – as everyone but Hanna had taken to calling him - had to admit that he was looking forward to it somewhat. Perhaps it was just residual energy being picked up from his friends, for it rolled off of them in waves; especially his red-haired companion, who looked happy enough to burst. Even Conrad, who was seated across from him and next to the blue-haired wolf, seemed rather eager. Or, at least, as eager as he ever looked about anything. The dead man couldn't help but wonder if maybe their vampiric companion wasn't just the slightest bit agoraphobic. But, he supposed, even the most withdrawn of the group had to have a little fun _some_time.

And what better way than at a rave?

So it was that the following Saturday found the five of them gathered outside what appeared to be an old bar in the middle of nowhere, just on the outskirts of the city. The building sat amongst a collection of similar structures, but looked much more stable. That being said, it still did not seem all that safe. The windows sported broken glass and were boarded up from the inside. Graffiti obscured the crumbling bricks that made up the exterior. Everything was still; no light, no sound.

The elder Cross Brother raised an eyebrow but said nothing as Toni boldly sauntered up to the rusting metal door and banged on it three times. A panel that no one, except perhaps Toni herself, had previously known was there, slid back to reveal…nothing. It was pitch black inside.

Then, a gruff male voice growled out, "Bar's closed. Whada'ya want?"

To which the girl replied, "After hours cocktail. Got any left?"

"How many?"

"Five."

"Can I see some I.D.?"

The group's tickets were pushed through the thin slot and the panel clanged shut. A moment later the door creaked open and they were all ushered inside. The bouncer, whom the zombie noted they still couldn't actually _see,_ directed them towards the back of the tiny establishment, through another door, and then down a small set of stairs into a huge underground vault.

Galahad took it all in. The room was relatively dark, save for the thin, colored spotlights sweeping over the black-light dance floor, which was jam-packed with people wearing all kinds of glow-in-the-dark accessories. Glow sticks, neon face paint, strobing buttons and necklaces, all flashing, flickering, _blazing_ along with the heavy, driving beat of the techno music that pounded out of the massive speakers along the side wall. It was an eruption of chaos, and it was really, really cool.

"Duuuude!" Hanna exclaimed from beside him. "This is _awesome_!"

He couldn't have agreed more.

They moved from the entryway into the swarming mass of bodies, making sure to keep close to one another. Since they weren't on the actual dance floor itself, they didn't have to fight very hard to get through, as most of the people in the corner where they were headed were either seated in booths or just milling around. The five of them picked out their own table and while the living went to go order drinks from the bar adjacent to their position, the dead and the undead sat down to guard the seats. One could only suppose that someone would be buying Veser's drink for him, as he was not yet legally old enough to have alcohol in the first place. The thought almost made the zombie smirk, but he refrained.

Over the course of the evening, the group shifted from the booth in the corner to the dance floor. At least, some of them did. Ever the more observant one, Galahad opted instead to wander around and do a little bit of exploring. In truth, he was rather enjoying himself as he watched not only his friends but also the rest of the ravers. He found it fascinating. Veser was off on the edge of the crowd, attempting to flirt with any girl who dared to sway close to him. Toni was half dancing / half chatting with a girl in a pair of red bondage pants and a guy in a lime-green button-down shirt, whom she appeared to know. Every now and then, the dead man would keep an eye on Hanna, who was busy bothering Conrad.

A few young ladies had come up to him and asked him to join them, each time he had politely declined. Some had pouted but for the most part they left him alone. There _had _beenone or two semi-inebriated women, and even a rather effeminate-looking man, who also attempted to drag him out to the floor, but he simply walked away.

He found himself over by the bar. The bartender came over and he randomly ordered something, figuring he could give it to Hanna. It was also a good excuse to lean against the counter. The bar, he decided was a pretty good vantage spot.

He was only there for about five minutes when a certain paranormal investigator popped up beside him. Hanna plunked his head down on the counter and let out an exasperated sigh.

"Something wrong?"

The man shot his head back up and gave his partner a happy grin. "Oh hey, Simon! Didn't see you there, man. You having fun?"

'Simon' felt like repeating his previous question but instead offered his brother a little smile. "Yes, actually." He passed the drink in his hand over to Hanna. "What about you?"

"Oh yeah, this place is great! Maybe we can come back sometime if Toni's able to get us in." He mimicked his partner's stance against the bartop, taking a sip of his newly acquired beverage. "Whoa, this is good, what is this?"

Galahad shrugged. "Mojito, I think." He took a sidelong glance at the man beside him, watching him carefully. The redhead was staring over his glasses out at the dance floor, where Veser and a girl in leather pants and an indigo corset were dancing together. And then he understood.

After over a year of living in the same apartment, he had come to know many things about Hanna Falk Cross. One of them being that he had absolutely no luck with the fairer sex. Knowing this, he could now very plainly see the tint of jealousy hiding in the younger man's eyes. The zombie guessed that he had probably been turned down several times; possibly even by the same girl that Veser had his arm snaked around.

"Hey! You guys having a good time?" Toni's laughing, out-of breath voice came out of seemingly nowhere and she materialized, half crashing into the bar beside her two friends. Conrad followed behind her a little more carefully. The werewolf looked over at him and grinned. "Whooo! I'm beat."

"Okay, everybody! I wanna see all you beautiful ladies out here tonight dancin' with a partner for this next one! You got that?" the DJ's voice rang loud and enthusiastic out over the speaker system, overpowering the music in the background. "This one's for you lovelies." And with that, the current song melted into a newer, more driving one.

As soon as the intro started, Toni gave a short yelp of delight and grabbed Conrad by the wrist, dragging him back out onto the floor. "Come on, Connie!" Then they were gone, lost in the crowd.

Hanna must have recognized the song immediately because he slumped down lower on his arms and gave a soft whine. "AaaaaaBBAaaaaa? Awwwwww!" he said longingly.

Indeed, it was ABBA; a very heavy trance-remix loaded with bass, but most definitely ABBA. And judging from the investigator's behavior, it was clear to the dead man that his friend desperately wanted to go and dance. Yet he stayed where he was, looking mournfully out at the teeming dance floor. It was like a sea, a surging throng of bodies and limbs.

Galahad suddenly felt very bad for his roommate. He wanted to say something to cheer him up, something to make that grin reappear on his usually bright face, anything. Dejected Hanna was not normal, and it made him uncomfortable. Just as he opened his mouth to speak – though what he was going to say, he wasn't quite sure yet – he was cut off by an awed exclamation from beside him.

"Whoa! Your eyes are _amazing!_"

He looked over and then down. There stood a girl roughly the same age as Hanna (_Maybe just a little bit younger,_ he thought idly) and only about an inch taller, most likely because of her heeled boots. She wore a tattered, knee-length black skirt that was more just strips of cloth than anything else, purple fishnet stockings, a purple mesh halter-top, and a black leather crop-top that hung off of her shoulders. Around her neck and wrists were several purple glow sticks and her eyes where covered in thick black eye makeup. There was a lengthy stripe of deep violet and royal blue in the front of her long dark hair. She smiled up at him.

"That has got to be the best rave effect I have ever seen."

He gave her a quick nod and mumbled a "thank you." He attempted a polite smile in return but wasn't sure if he'd managed it. His mind was still mostly focused on Hanna.

"Hey, uhm, I was wondering…"

The zombie glanced back over at her, ready to decline her offer to dance. However, it wasn't _him_ she was looking at. She was leaning slightly to the side, her gaze resting on his brother. On Hanna.

"Your friend, is he with anyone?"

Galahad shook his head, slightly stunned, but liking where this was going. He could almost feel a smirk tugging at his lips.

The girl brightened. "Would it be okay if I steal him?"

This time he did smirk. He turned his body towards the miserable-looking redhead and gestured with the sweep of an arm. "Go for it."

Not having heard what was going on, Hanna looked down at the green hand in front of him. "Huh?" he blinked, confused.

The girl, positively giddy, stepped over to wrap her thin fingers around his wrist. She gave a light tug and a flirtatious smile. Electric blue eyes blinked again, not quite comprehending what was going on.

Seeing that this would get them nowhere, Galahad deftly plucked the drink out of his grasp and nudged him in the shoulder. When Hanna glanced up at him he nodded once to him and then once to the mass of dancers. The young man blinked a final time before his face erupted into_ the single most _elated grin the zombie had _ever_ seen. He watched as the girl pulled him along with her into the middle of the floor, disappearing into the horde just as Conrad and Toni had done.

Galahad stayed where he was, simply observing the room around him. He allowed himself to close his eyes, to let the music wash over his senses and envelop him. He almost felt a sensation of oneness with every other person in the room. It was like the throbbing sound waves were a heartbeat, and he savored it for as long as he could. For a brief, fleeting moment, he forgot that he had ever been dead. He was alive again. He drummed his fingers along the countertop behind him in rhythm with his new substitute pulse.

And then the song ended. He stayed that way for just a little bit longer, keeping his eyes closed. He breathed in a lungful of air that he did not need and let his mind and spirit rejoin reality. When he opened his eyes again he saw Hanna picking his way back over to the bar.

The twenty-four-year-old was flush-faced, his fiery hair sticking to his forehead with a layer of sweat. He flopped down beside his brother with a worn-out rush of air. The grin from earlier was still plastered onto his face.

"Have fun?"

He just let out a breathy laugh and grinned impossibly wider. When he turned to look at the dead man beside him, there was a glow-in-the-dark kiss mark adorning his right cheek. Around his neck was one of the girl's purple glow sticks.

When the group finally piled out of the dingy entrance it was almost 4:00 in the morning. Though he no longer could sweat, the zombie found that the cool night air felt nice against his dry, dead skin. He could only imagine how good it must have felt to the others. With all of the people crammed into the vault it had been getting admittedly quite warm back in the rave.

While waiting on the corner for the crowd to dissipate enough for them to head for the car, Galahad listened to the sounds around him. There was no music anymore, just the faint noises from the city in the distance. He could hear his friends chatting beside him, and the hum of other people moving steadily away from them, but he chose to tune it out.

It was while he was listening in this way that he heard a snippet of conversation coming from the alley behind them.

"Hun, you're drunk."

"Nuh-no I'm not." The speech was slurred, proving a perfect contrast to the words themselves.

Glowing orange eyes turned to see a group of three walking away down the side street. One of them, the man in green that Toni had been talking to near the beginning of the night, was being supported by the woman in red and the woman in indigo that Veser had danced with.

"And what about you?" said the indigo-clad female, nudging someone unseen. "Don't pretend you weren't all over that one ginger guy."

There was a laugh from the one in red. "God, you and your nerd kink, I swear!"

A fourth person skipped out from in front of her friends to walk beside them instead. "Oh come on, guys! He had glasses, that makes him hot!" It was the girl with the purple glow sticks. Hanna's dance partner.

The undead man chuckled.

"Hector? What's up?"

He looked down to find that very same ginger staring up at him. His grin still had not disappeared. 'Hector' offered a smile of his own. "Nothing. Just happy for you, that's all."

Later, as the group was herding themselves into Conrad's car, Galahad couldn't help but smile softly to himself. Maybe, just maybe, there was hope for Hanna after all.

* * *

Why is this so long? It was only meant to be a double-drabble and instead it turned into this! Grrrr! I don't like the ending either. Bleh. Screw it, it's 2:15 AM.

Agoraphobia, for anyone who's wondering, is the fear of large crowds or of just being too close to other people in general. I myself suffer mildly from it; it sucks.

Coming soon: sister fic _Technophonic_

Musical Muses:

ABBA – Gimme Gimme Gimmie (A Man After Midnight)

ATC – Around the World


End file.
